Ghosts In the Machine
by Aurora Lenore
Summary: Book 3 in my "Egg-Cellent Adventure" series. Bianca finds that she can no longer avoid dealing with her painful past when Larry literally delves into her childhood to unearth the cause of her strong emotions. His investigations, however, unearth a dastardly plot which he may not be in time to prevent from unfolding! Reviews are welcome!
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER** : I do not own Perfect Strangers nor do I own the characters from the series. And as much as I want to, I don't own Dimitri, either. :-)

 **Chapter One**

Larry Appleton had never felt so miserable or hopeless in his entire life. He hadn't slept well in days, he couldn't seem to do anything right at his job for the Chicago Chronicle, and now, the love of his life, Jennifer Lyons, was leaving for six _months_!

As he looked at his reflection in the mirror over the bathroom sink, he remembered every heartbreaking detail of Jennifer's admission that she would be going away. Both she and Mary Anne Spencer had been chosen to teach a flight attendant class in Ontario, Canada for six months! Not one month, not three, but _six_! Just thinking about it made Larry sick to his stomach. Grabbing his liquid antacid, he plopped down on the sofa beside his best friend and cousin, Balki Bartokomous. "My life is over, Balki," he whined.

Balki threw his arm over the back of the sofa and turned to him. "Oh, Cousin, don't worry. You'll find one again," he replied.

Larry looked over at him, dumbfounded. "You know, Mary Anne is leaving for six months, too! You don't feel _depressed_?"

"Cousin, I'll miss Mary Anne, but she be back. It's not like she's going to another country or anything."

Larry did a double take. "Balki, Canada IS another country! Canada is not part of the United States. It's just a part of North America!"

"Well, I'll be snookered," Balki replied before turning his attention back to Larry. "Cousin, why can't you just be happy for Jennifer and Mary Anne? This is a once in a while chance for them. They get to teach young people how to attend flights!"

"But Balki, you're missing the _point_! Last time Jennifer got an offer to go away, I hesitated telling her how I felt and nearly lost her in the process. Now the opportunity has arose again and no matter what I've said, she _still_ plans on going! Balki, Canada may not seem that far away, but it's like a whole other world! Jennifer could forget all about me and fall in love with some Mountie who loves bobsled racing and eats Canadian bacon. I mean, what if I write her a letter or call her and she says ' _Larry who?_ '?"

"Oh, po po, Cousin," Balki scolded gently. "If Harriet has said it once, she's said it twice: you're acting like a bit of a drag queen again."

"That's _drama_ queen and I'll have you know that you are in just as much jeopardy of losing Mary Anne as I am of losing Jennifer. Jennifer is smart and beautiful and Mary Anne is…well, she's beautiful. Two beautiful women roaming the snow-capped mountains of Ontario. I guarantee you that the Canadian mountain men will be lining up at the door to date them!"

"But they are _our_ girlfriends. They would never cheat on us. Mary Anne is loyal to me and Jennifer is loyal to you. Now just put that in your pants and smoke it," Balki pointed out before standing up. "Now, I'm going to finish getting ready for our dinner with the girls before they leave. Are you coming with us or are you going to sit and wallow in your own mystery?"

Larry watched Balki go, a wave of guilt washing over him. He had been so worried about Jennifer falling in love with someone else, when he had been the one who cheated. Sure, it had just been a dream when he kissed Bianca Pierson, but it still felt as real as it could be. In fact, ever since the dream, he'd felt incredibly guilty and preoccupied with his thoughts of Bianca and everything that had happened. It had been a week–seven whole days–since Balki had awakened him from his slumber, but he still worried about the dream being real. If Bianca had been in danger in his subconscious, perhaps she was in _real_ danger. He had been so desperate, he had called her grandfather, hoping and praying to get a message to her to be careful, but Larry had heard nothing in response. He wanted to tell Balki, but he didn't want to worry him, as well. Besides, he'd hate to upset Balki if Bianca wasn't in danger at all, but just Larry's overactive imagination working overtime.

"Cousin, are you ready?" Balki asked, grabbing his coat from the hanger on the door and handing Larry his.

"Ready to say goodbye to Jennifer? Never. Ready to eat? Most definitely."

* * *

"So, have you started any new side projects lately or are you just sticking to the web design stuff?"

Bianca Pierson sipped her coffee and stared at her friend via video chat. "Mostly just sticking to the web designing job. Ever since that art gallery manager Serge from Beverly Hills hired me, I've been working non-stop. And his accent is weirder than yours, if you can believe that, Valeena," she added with a laugh. She had known Valeena Tolstoy for fifteen years and her drawl had never changed. It was a cross between a Brooklyn and a Wisconsin-ite accent. Considering Valeena had moved around all her life, it was no wonder her enunciations were muddled.

"Sorry, I can't. Well, I won't keep you on here. I know you just got home from seeing your art dealer friend with the bad accent, but I'll yak at you later, okay?"

Bianca laughed. "Okay. Talk to you soon. Love you."

"You too, sweetheart."

As soon as the video chat was over, her yellow robot Wakamaru rolled to her slowly, speaking in high-pitched Japanese.

"English, Wakamaru; _English_ ," she moaned, wishing she could figure out how to fix his glitch permanently.

"You have two new messages."

"Play messages," she said, standing up and walking across the room, Wakamaru following her.

"First message…."

"Hey, Miss Pierson, just wanted to say thank you regarding that error that kept showing up on the website. I appreciate it. You were the only one who knew exactly what to do. Of course, I should've known, considering the fantastic job you did for my brother a few months back. This is Jacob Langley of _Langley Confections_ , by the way," a male voice came over the speaker on the robot's head.

"Second message…"

Bianca listened as she heard static at first. She was just about to order Wakamaru to delete the message, but the voice she finally heard made her snap to attention.

"Bianca…grandfather….got a call….Larry Appleton…grave danger….you should go…"

"End of messages," Wakamaru stated after the eerie message.

"No, play second message again," Bianca ordered, not believing her ears.

Sure enough, in the midst of the static-filled line, there was no mistaking her deceased grandfather's voice. Somehow, he knew Larry and Balki were not only friends of hers, but that they needed her _help_!

"Don't worry, guys; I'm on my way!" she cried out, running as fast as she could to the garage and to her time machine. She needed to go back to nineteen-eighty-seven…and _fast_!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Bianca was growing rather time-travel weary by the time she found the restaurant where Larry and Balki were supposedly having dinner. She had first traveled to their apartment, only to find no one there, and then tried their place of work at the newspaper. Thankfully, she ran into the elevator operator, Harriet Winslow, who told her that Larry and Balki had gone to _Zhamira's_ , a fancy restaurant with their girlfriends. She hated tailing them, but she had to at least make sure they were safe. That was what she was supposed to do, according to her grandfather's cryptic message. It still stupefied her how her grandfather knew Larry enough to know he was in trouble. Maybe that was something she would ask later.

As she opened the door to the restaurant, she smiled at the scene. As far as looks, it seemed like a very nice restaurant. The tables were covered with fine cloth and one dimly-lit candle in the middle. The walls were plastered with generic masterpieces in faux gold and silver frames. The servers and waiters, however, were dressed mostly casual, in navy blue and white aprons, pen and paper in hand to take orders. It was an expensive restaurant for people who couldn't afford memberships to country clubs but still wanted their dates to dine with class.

" _Hey_!"

Bianca turned around to find a man dressed in an apron glaring at her. Bianca pointed to herself, unsure who he was really calling to.

"Yes; _you_! Get over here!" the man hissed, waving her over with his hand impatiently. "You're _late_!"

"What? No, I'm sorry, sir; you must be mistaken," Bianca began, but the guy put up his hand to silence her.

"I don't wanna hear excuses. Get an apron and your stuff and go take table thirteen's order."

"But I don't–"

" _Now_!" he snapped, throwing an apron at her. "Table thirteen."

Bianca cleared her throat nervously. "Where is table thirteen?" she whispered.

"There, with the two couples," he pointed.

Bianca followed his finger directly to Larry and Balki's table. _Oh, crap_ , she thought, slipping on her apron and grabbing a nearby abandoned pair of glasses.

The man shoved a pen and note pad in her hand and waved her off hurriedly.

 _Well, here I go. Stopping at their table_ , she thanked her lucky stars that the four of them were too engrossed in their menus to pay her any attention.

"Hi," she suddenly said in a fake Southern drawl. "I'm LouAnn and I'll be your server. Now what can I get you fine folks tonight?"

Jennifer was the first to look up and Bianca was taken aback at just how beautiful she was. "Hi, LouAnn. What are your specials?"

"Uh," Bianca stammered. "We are all out of our specials. They were just that darned _special_! But might I suggest the shrimp scampi? It's to die for."

"Fine, I'll have that," Jennifer smiled. "With water."

"And I'll have the chicken salad with the ranch dressing. And water for me, too," Mary Anne ordered.

Bianca gulped as Balki looked up at her. He smiled wide and at first, she thought she was done for. "Can I have the steak tartare? I don't know what that is, but it's fun to say. And could I get some of those little crackers that come in cute little packages of two?"

"Sure, Ba–I mean, sir. And what would you like to drink with that?"

"Water with lemon, please. I love your accent, by the way. Very authorentic."

"Balki," Jennifer interrupted pleasantly. "I think you mean _authentic_."

"That, too," Balki replied.

"And for you, sir?" she asked, her body tensing as Larry ran his finger over the menu's list until he found what he wanted.

Larry looked up from his menu, a look of assertiveness on his face. "Why thank you; I will have the–oh my _Lord_!"

"Well, I can see you need more time, then," she blurted before turning and briskly walking away. So much for being unnoticed!

* * *

"Um, Balki, could you excuse me for just one second? I need to use the facilities," Larry asked.

"But, Larry, you haven't ordered yet. What if LouAnn comes back and you're not here?" Jennifer pointed out.

"I'll have what you're having," Larry replied as Balki stood up to let him out of the booth.

As soon as he saw that Balki, Jennifer and Mary Anne weren't in eye view, he quickly made his way in the opposite direction of the bathroom and towards the kitchen where he saw her trying to hide behind a giant ficus. "A- _ha_!" he cried, cornering her. "You just _thought_ you could fool Larry Appleton!"

Bianca smiled, thankful his tone was light. "I just came here to eat and they mistook me for an employee! I had no choice!" she confessed.

Larry hugged her tightly, feeling warm all over. "I'm so glad you're _alright_!"

"I'm alright? I'm just glad you and _Balki_ are alright! That's why I came. I had this feeling that you were in some sort of trouble."

"So, I take it your grandfather told you?" Larry asked hopefully.

"Well, sort of, yes. But how do you know my grandfather?"

"It's a long, long story. I'm just so glad you're here! Now maybe you won't be in danger from Max."

Bianca raised an eyebrow at him. "Max? Who is Max?"

Larry shook his head. "Sorry. Look, I promise to tell you everything later. Why don't you go back to our apartment and wait there? Balki will be so surprised to see you and we can talk more then."

"Hey! I don't pay you to stand around and chat with customers! The food's ready," the man, Bianca assumed now was the manager snarled.

"Sorry. I'll go back to your apartment as soon as my uh, _shift_ is over," she grimaced.

"Thanks. And I really am glad you're okay," Larry repeated, trying to look into her blue eyes without getting lost in them.

"You, too," she answered, the manager now literally pulling her by the arm.

As soon as Larry sauntered back to the table, he felt better than he had all week.

"Larry, I know you're upset that Mary Anne and I will be leaving, but we'll call you every day…"

 _So much for feeling better_ , he thought as he slumped down in his seat, the reality of losing Jennifer punching him in the gut.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

The reality of Mary Anne's impending departure was starting to close in on Balki as they left the girls' apartment. He knew they would see each other again at the airport tomorrow morning, but it didn't make it any easier. Larry was right; the thought of his little lamb kabob being away for six months was not something Balki was prepared for. He already missed her and she hadn't even left yet.

"Balki, I know you're upset about Mary Anne leaving, but I've got something that might make you feel better," Larry told him as they walked down the hallway to their apartment.

"What that?" Balki asked.

"I have a surprise for you inside the apartment."

Suddenly, Balki clapped his hands together and his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. "Oh, Cousin, what is it? Is it bigger than a breadbasket?"

Larry smiled thinly. "Yes."

"Is it a bikki mooki bing tiki?" Balki asked.

Larry glanced back at him strangely. "What on _Earth_ is a bikki mooki bing tiki?"

"Well, I would tell you, but you would have to see it to believe it. I guess that not it, then, _hoh_?"

"No, I guess not. Balki, just let me unlock the door and then you can see for yourself."

Balki was so excited, he could barely stand still as Larry fished his keys from his pocket.

"Ta-da!" Larry cried when he burst open the door, looking back at Balki for his reaction.

Balki walked inside and looked left, then right. Larry did say it was bigger than a bread basket, but maybe his cousin was fooling him. "Uh, Cousin? Did you hide my surprise? I see nothing here."

"Wait, _what_? I told her to wait _here_!" Larry brushed past Balki and into the bedrooms frantically.

"Cousin…you mean… _Mama's_ here?" Balki cried out joyfully. "Mama! Mama, where you are?"

"No, Balki, your mama's not here," Larry answered sadly.

"Guys, I could hear you all the way down the fire escape," a voice laughed from the window near the kitchen.

Balki turned to see his surprise climbing through the window with Larry's assistance. " _Bianca_!" he shouted, practically tackling her in a hug. "Is so good to see you! How you been? Look, Cousin; it's Bianca!"

"I see her," Larry grinned before turning to Bianca. "What were you doing on the fire escape?"

"What do you _think_ I was doing? Hiding, of course!"

"You came all the way from two-thousand-thirteen to see us? How is R.O.B.?" Balki asked, leading her to the sofa.

"R.O.B. is good. He sends his hellos to you both. Actually, I'm here because I got this call from my–"

"Balki," Larry suddenly blurted out. "Why don't you go into the kitchen and bake up a batch of those chocolate chip cookies we bought at the supermarket yesterday?"

"But Cousin, I want to stay and talk to Bianca," Balki stated.

"I _realize_ that Balki, but she traveled all this way to see us and I'm sure she would love to eat some nice, warm cookies. Isn't that right, Bianca?"

Bianca looked at Larry and then back at Balki. "You know, Larry has a point. I haven't eaten since I got here and I promise as soon as they're ready, I'll sit up and talk to you all night about whatever is on your mind."

Balki stood up and grinned from ear to ear. "Really? You would do that for Balki?"

"You bet!"

Balki practically skipped into the kitchen. He knew that he, Larry and Bianca were going to have so much fun together, just like last time.

* * *

"And then Balki woke me up and I realized it was all just a dream," Larry finished. He had told everything about the dream to Bianca–well, everything except the kiss–and waited anxiously for her reply.

"That's quite a dream you had. Too bad none of it was true," Bianca finally said after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence.

"Well if none of it is _true_ , then how was I able to call your grandfather and tell him to warn you that you were in danger?" Larry asked pointedly.

"Okay, so you guessed that I was close to my grandfather. A lot of people are. And yes, he, _too_ , was an inventive genius. But he didn't _speak_ to me; he simply used a device he had invented to tap any phone line. I'm surprised it even worked, considering the technological advances that have come along since he invented it. You just got lucky," Bianca explained, her voice tight.

Larry stared at her, shocked and confused. He couldn't believe how flippant she was being. It was like she was almost angry at him for knowing something about her family whether it be dream or reality. "Or maybe your grandfather was able to somehow tap into my dreams and he _wanted_ me to warn him to warn you."

Bianca raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Did you just hear yourself? Larry, just drop it. I won't tell Balki about the grandfather thing for two reasons: one, because you don't want him to know and also because I want to talk about something– _anything_ –else. Okay?"

Larry opened his mouth to argue, but Balki beat him to it. "Who wants Toll Booth cookies?"

As Balki set the plate on the coffee table, Larry abruptly got up and retreated into his bedroom. As far as he was concerned, Balki and Bianca could eat the whole batch. He wasn't the least bit hungry anymore.

* * *

" _Please_ don't make me do this," she pleaded with him, hoping to find an ounce of compassion.

"You _will_ do this, and do you know why?" he asked through gritted teeth as he roughly grabbed her arm. So much for compassion.

"Ow; you're _hurting_ me!" she cried, struggling to free herself.

"You're doing this because I _said_ so!" he shouted, suddenly releasing her and laughing as she stumbled backward.

She looked at him tearfully, terrified of what he was capable of. And as he locked her back in her dungeon of a room, she knew she had no choice but to do what he asked. It was the only way to ensure her freedom.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Bianca plopped down on the sofa, opened a bag of potato chips and took a drink from her soda. While Larry and Balki had gone to the airport to say goodbye to Jennifer and Mary Anne, she had promised Balki that she would stay in the apartment until they got home. Bianca had tried–and failed–to get some rest, considering she and Balki were up until four in the morning talking about everything from R.O.B. to Mypos. They even had a spirited discussion on just how many licks it takes to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop. Larry, on the other hand, went to bed early and never spoke a word to her otherwise. He was still angry at her for her behavior, but could he really blame her for being callous about his silly dream? After all, he knew nothing about her life or her relationship with her grandfather, past or present. He didn't even have the time right; he died in nineteen-ninety- _six_. _Seventeen_ years ago, not fourteen as Larry claimed she had stated in the dream. Bianca scoffed as she thought of the ridiculous story of how she and her grandfather had an infinite connection that surpassed all rhyme or reason. Perhaps it was partially true when he was _alive_ , but there was absolutely no connection or bond after his death.

"Well," she said aloud to the empty room, "there was until I learned the _truth_. The horrible, dysfunctional, mind-blowing truth."

Suddenly, the anger boiled up inside her and she shot up from the sofa as if someone had lit a fire underneath her. Grabbing a throw pillow from the corner of the sofa, she threw it as hard as she could at the door, letting out a cry of fury as she did.

"Well, if you didn't want me to come back, you could have just said, 'Balki, come back later; I'm re-decorating the living room'."

Bianca blinked and saw that Balki was standing in the doorway, the throw pillow caught awkwardly in his hands. "Balki, I'm sorry. I didn't see you. I was–I was watching a soap opera and got caught up in the story," she lied, rushing over to him.

"That's okay. Cousin dropped me off here while he went to drown his sparrows in an ice cream sundae. I thought maybe you and I could go see a movie or we could go to the Laundromat and watch the clothes spin around in the dryer until we get dizzy."

Bianca smiled at Balki's innocence. "As much fun as that sounds, I'm not really in the mood to go out. Would you mind if we just stayed here for awhile?"

"Bianca, are you okay? I noticed you and Cousin Larry are not speaking. Did he say something wrong to upset you? I only ask because Mr. Gorpley always say that Cousin is good at sticking his foot up his nose. I would agree but I don't think he's that limber."

"No, it's fine. Larry and I just had a little disagreement, that's all. Nothing to worry about. Besides, he had a lot of things on his mind. Speaking of which, do you want to talk about Mary Anne? I'm really sorry she had to leave, but she'll be back before you know it."

Balki sat down on the sofa. "I was sad seeing her go, but it's a wonderful opportunity and I hear opportunity only tells a knock-knock joke once."

"I heard something like that, too," she replied, offering him the potato chip bag. "You know what? I think I'm going to lie down for awhile. Are you sure you don't mind I sleep in your room until I go home?"

"Well, of _course_ I don't; don't be ridiculous! Now go; catch up on your sleep and I will stay right here and watch your machine," he told her, pointing to the giant egg in front of the bookcase.

"Thanks, Balki," she kissed him on the cheek, smiling as he blushed before she went into his bedroom. Somehow, she knew she'd be able to sleep better knowing Balki and Larry were alright.

* * *

"Balki?"

Balki opened one eye and saw his cousin standing over him timidly. "Oh, Cousin; I didn't hear you come in. I must have fallen asleep. Who knew eating pot-at-toh chips could be so exhausting?"

"So I've heard. I take it Bianca is still here?" Larry asked.

"Yes," Balki replied in a whisper. "She is in my bedroom, sleeping like a baby sheep. When she wake up, you should talk to her. I don't like that the two of you aren't on speaking germs. Promise me that you will sit with her and talk to her about what is bothering you."

"I promise I will, Balki. Right now, though, I just want to go to my room and lie down. Who knew eating an ice cream sundae and saying goodbye to your girlfriend would be so exhausting?"

Balki watched Larry go into his room and close the door before he stood up and wiped the chip crumbs from his clothes. He needed to keep himself busy so he wouldn't fall asleep again. Talk about a lazy Saturday!

A little while later, Balki had dusted and swept and mopped the entire apartment, not including the bedrooms. He couldn't believe how much better he felt afterwards.

"Bianca?"

"Shh; she's sleeping," Balki replied, wiping off the kitchen table.

"Bianca? Are you there?"

Suddenly, Balki realized the voice did not belong to Cousin Larry and he stood erect, his body tensing up. "Who said that?" he asked, not daring to move.

"Bianca, help me!"

Slowly, Balki turned around to find a woman standing inside Bianca's time machine. She was tall, had long flowing hair and was wearing a dress, but Balki noticed he could see right through her! "Hello, I am Balki Bartokomous," he introduced slowly as he shakily took a step towards her.

To his surprise, she never acknowledged his presence, still looking off into the distance. "Bianca, please help me!"

"I–I'll go get Bianca," Balki stuttered, trying to force his feet to move.

"Bianca, please; I–"

Suddenly, he heard a loud noise, like a bang and the woman let out a blood-curdling scream.

Balki covered her ears as she continued screaming, but seconds later, realized he was screaming, as well.

"Balki!" Bianca and Larry's voices cried in unison as they both quickly exited their rooms, only to both slip down on the newly waxed floor.

"Balki, what's wrong? Why did you _scream_?" Bianca asked, regaining her composure first before helping Larry to his feet.

Balki just stood, open-mouthed, pointing a shaky finger at the machine.

"Balki, tell us what happened!" Larry urged, concern on his face.

"There was a woman in your machine," Balki finally spoke, his voice meek and quivering. "She was standing there calling for Bianca and asking for help…"

"She was calling my _name_?" Bianca asked.

Balki nodded. "She was a transvestite, though, because I could see right through her!"

"Balki, I think you mean she was _transparent_ ," Larry corrected. " _Then_ what happened?"

"I heard a loud noise and she screamed like the girls do in those horrible movies when they see the really scary parts. Oh, Cousin, it was _awful_!" Balki cried, embracing Larry for support and burying his face in his cousin's shoulder.

"Balki, it was just your imagination. There are no such things as ghosts and she's not here anymore. It was just a bad dream," Larry reasoned, gently pushing Balki away.

"No, Cousin; this was no bad dream. This was as real as the toes in front of my face."

"Balki, why don't you go sit down on the sofa and I'll make some tea to calm your nerves, okay?" Larry asked.

"Okay, Cousin," Balki replied, still slightly trembling as he made his way to the couch.

"You see, Bianca? Now _he's_ having dreams! Are you going to tell him that he's being foolish, as well? That seeing the ghost of a woman he's never met calling for you and screaming doesn't mean _anything_?" Larry provoked haughtily.

"Cousin, you said that you would–" Balki turned around in his seat to face Larry, who was at the bar, opening the tea bags.

"Larry, I said to drop the subject of the dream and I _meant_ it! This is your fault for filling his head so much with your _own_ dream! That's probably why he's having nightmares; all because you can't stop obsessing over your own!" Bianca cried, interrupting Balki.

"Now, Bianca; _surely_ you don't mean–"

"I have done no such thing! Forgive _me_ for trying to possibly save your life and _help_ you!" Larry shot back.

"Cousin, this is no way to–" Balki tried for a third time.

"You wanna know how you can ' _help_ ' me, Larry? Take my machine and go check on R.O.B.; _that's_ how you can help me. And I swear if I hear one more word about your _stupid_ dream–"

Larry stormed out of the kitchen and walked towards the machine. "Fine! I'll check on your precious R.O.B.! But if and when something happens that proves my _stupid_ dream wasn't so stupid after all, don't come crawling back to me!"

Balki stood up and started towards him, but Larry had already slammed the door to the machine and disappeared. He then looked over at Bianca and did the only thing he could do: mumble curses to himself in Myposian before going to the kitchen and finishing the tea.

"He just needs to cool off," Bianca finally said softly.

"He was sweating because he was upset, Bianca. I am sure that when he goes to check on R.O.B., he will feel better. But why did you have to yell at him? He just worries about you and so do I. Why you make him feel bad for being concerned about his dream?"

Bianca rubbed her hands over her face in frustration. "I don't know, Balki. I just think he's making a big deal out of nothing, that's all. I'm fine, you're fine; we're all _fine_."

Balki grabbed two cups from the cupboard and poured the tea. As he handed her tea to her, however, he noticed her hands were shaking as much as his hands had been after seeing the ghost. If Larry was making a big deal out of nothing, then why were both he and Bianca so on edge?


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"Doesn't want to me to talk about the 'stupid dream', huh? Well, _fine_! I won't talk about the dream ever again because I won't talk to _her_ ever again," Larry was still muttering to himself when the time machine settled in the middle of Bianca's living room.

Of course, Larry didn't mean a word of it and he knew it. He cared about Bianca in a way that comforted yet terrified him. Dream or not, he knew there was more to it than Bianca was admitting. He saw the way she tensed up when he told her about the conversation in the dream about her grandfather. He needed to know more, but he had to find out without Bianca knowing.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up. He had a plan! "R.O.B.? Are you here?"

"Intruder alert! Intruder alert!" R.O.B. repeated, coming in from the kitchen, his blue LED eyes replaced with red flashing ones. It was just how he had envisioned it in his subconscious. Now how about _that_ for just a stupid dream?

"No, no, no; R.O.B.; it's Larry Appleton. Bianca's friend from nineteen-eighty-seven, remember?" he prompted nervously.

"Mr. Cousin Larry. Hello!" the robot greeted, the blue returning to his face.

"Hello, R.O.B.. Bianca wanted me to check in and see if you needed anything. Not that I would know what robots need…maybe some oil, perhaps? A lug nut or two?"

"All that is required of me is to be powered up and powered down occasionally. As of now, I am fully charged and ready to assist."

"Glad to hear that, R.O.B., because I need your help. What can you tell me about Bianca's relationship to her grandfather?"

"I am sorry, Mr. Cousin Larry, but that information is classified," R.O.B. replied.

"You're kidding me, right? You know the truth and you won't tell me, either?" Larry groaned in frustration. "Okay, fine. Just tell me how to move this machine from here and into the garage. Or is that ' _classified_ ', as well?"

"No need to get snippy, Mr. Cousin Larry. The machine will have to remain here. There is no longer room in the garage for two machines."

Larry nodded his head. "Oh, okay. She must have a small–wait; what did you say?" he suddenly asked, his eyes sparkling as he thought up another 'plan'.

"Miss Bianca has built another time machine," R.O.B. confirmed.

"And does this time machine work?"

"Why yes. What are you proposing?" R.O.B. asked.

"R.O.B.; I need your help, buddy. You see, Bianca is at our apartment and she's not doing well at all. She is missing her grandfather and she mentioned something about wishing I could meet him. I'd love to do that, of course, but Balki is back home and she is staying with him. I'm sure she won't mind if I use her other time machine to go back to when her grandfather was still alive. Could you possibly help me help Bianca?"

"Mr. Cousin Larry, you mistake me for your Myposian cousin of innocence. Your lies and ploys will not work with me," R.O.B. told him. "However, I could allow you to see for yourself what Bianca's life was like with her grandfather if that is what you wish."

"You mean you'll _do_ it?" Larry asked, open-mouthed.

"Yes. I will send the time machine back to your apartment in nineteen-eighty-seven and allow you to use the other one to travel back to nineteen-ninety-six. If you wish to understand Bianca's relationship with her grandfather, this is the year you will need to travel."

Larry couldn't believe his luck! Now maybe he could _finally_ understand what his dream really meant and figure out Bianca's annoyance with the mere mention of it. "I don't guess robots can lie, if Bianca asks where I've gone?"

"No, Mr. Cousin Larry. I am not programmed to lie. Only to say 'I'm sorry, but that information is classified.'"

Larry couldn't help but to pump both fists in the air. "Yes! R.O.B.; take me back to nineteen-ninety-six!"

* * *

"Bianca! Bianca, come quickly!"

As soon as she heard Balki calling her, she rushed out of his room, laundry basket in her hands. "Balki, what's wrong?"

"The machine is back, but Cousin is not inside," Balki pointed out before stepping inside the machine. "Cousin? Cousin, are you hiding?"

Bianca gently tugged on Balki's arm, pulling him out of the machine. "Balki, it's alright. I'm sure R.O.B. just sent the machine back in case we needed it. He'll call for it again when Larry's ready to apolo–I mean, when Larry's ready to come back. Trust me; Larry's _fine_."

"Oh," Balki exhaled. "Okay. I thought at first maybe the ghost lady got to him or something."

"Balki, about the ghost lady; I–" Bianca began, but was interrupted by the phone.

"I got it," Balki told her, walking over to the bar and answering it.

Bianca shrugged, deciding she'd talk to him about it later. Besides, she had laundry to do. If she was going to stay for a few days as Balki had made her promise, she had to earn her keep. She picked up her laundry basket and retreated back into his bedroom to continue folding their clothes. Besides, Balki was now invested in a lively conversation with someone named Lydia.

"I was crusin' in my ship on an interstellar trip, and I'd really had a nasty flight. So I landed on a planet made of Styrofoam and granite, to see if I could spend the night…," she sang softly as she folded a pair of Larry's pajamas. It was an old silly song from a guy named Phil Baron that she and her grandfather used to sing long ago when she was a child.

 _Why on Earth am I singing that ridiculous song now?_ she asked herself, shaking her head as if to clear it from her mind.

"Aah! Bianca!"

Dropping the laundry basket, she ran out of the room, wondering what Balki could be upset about this time. When she saw him, he was cowering at the bar, holding onto it as if his life depended on it. "Balki? Are you _alright_?"

"I–I–I saw her again," he stammered, barely able to look at her.

"The ghost? What did she _say_?" she asked, gently leading him to the sofa to sit.

"The same as before. She call for your name and start screaming for help. I open my mouth to call for you, but I hear the noise again and that's when the sheep hit the fan. She screamed so loud and so long, I thought my ear drums would bust. She look as if she had been hurt, but she also look very scared and that scare me. Well, that and the fact I can see right through her like indivisible tape."

"Balki, this is the second time you've seen her. Did she say her name or give you any clue as to who she might be?"

Balki shook his head furiously, still clutching Bianca's arm. "No. She only call for you and then she screams after she gets shot."

Bianca did a double-take. "Wait; you said she gets _shot_?"

"Well, the noise sounds like a gun and then she grabs her stomach. Either she was shot or ate some bad ding ding machmud."

Bianca raised her eyebrows and turned away. Perhaps Balki had eaten bad ding ding machmud…or he was missing Mary Anne more than he, Larry or Bianca thought. Either way, she needed to keep a close eye on him until Larry came back. Then maybe _he_ could talk some sense into his Myposian cousin.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

As soon as Larry opened the door to the time machine, he knew something had to be wrong. He was at the edge of an old cemetery in the middle of God-only-knew-where, with a funeral procession only a couple of yards away.

Suddenly, the wind picked up and blew one of the funeral pamphlets at his feet. Bending down to pick it up, he saw a photo of a jovial older man in his fifties, with wire-rimmed glasses, salt and pepper hair and a mischievous grin. "Henry Aloisius Pierson. June twelfth, nineteen-forty two to May eighth, nineteen-ninety seven," he read before looking back toward the funeral. As people were leaving, he could see that a young girl, possibly around eleven or so, was standing beside the closed casket, a single white rose in her hands. She was wearing a plain black dress with a black and white bow in her copper hair. "Bianca," he whispered, empathy overwhelming him as he slowly walked closer and hid behind a large oak tree.

"Come on, B; time to go to your new home," a small plump woman walked over to her, grabbing her arm roughly.

"I'm not _ready_ to go with you," young Bianca whined, shrugging the woman off.

"Fine. You can have someone else drop you off, then," the woman snapped before stomping off.

Larry watched as Bianca now stood alone in the cemetery by her grandfather's coffin. Tears welled up in his eyes as he watched her cross her arms over the top and lay her head down, sobbing.

Suddenly, he felt something crawl on his hand as he leaned up against the tree. Looking over, he saw red ants all over the trunk and he jumped back, shaking his hand in hopes to fling any ants off him. A he did, he stepped on a branch, which cracked under the pressure.

Young Bianca looked up and gasped. "Who–who's there?" she sniffed, looking around nervously. When she spotted Larry, she gasped again.

"I am so sorry. I didn't mean to intrude, but I sort of put my hand on the trunk of the tree over there and when I did, I–"

Suddenly the young Bianca slapped his hand so hard, he let out a cry of pain. " _Ow_! What was that for?"

"You had a red ant on your hand," she said simply with a shrug. "Did you know my grandfather?"

"Well, not exactly. I've spoken to him once, though. Very nice man. Seemed to care about you a lot."

Young Bianca wiped her eyes on her dress sleeve. "I'm Bianca, but everyone calls me B. What's your name?"

"Oh, me? I'm Larry. Larry Appleton. I, um, I'm really sorry about your grandfather," Larry told her, rocking back and forth on his heels nervously.

"I used to live with my grandfather but now I have to go live with my aunt. She _hates_ me, you know."

"Oh, come on. I'm sure your aunt doesn't hate you," Larry scoffed.

"Wanna bet?" B argued. "I overheard her say 'now that the old man is dead, I gotta be in charge of that little brat'."

Larry's eyes widened as he wasn't quite sure what to say to that. "Well–"

"If Grandfather were still alive, he'd have slapped her so hard, her ancestors would've felt a breeze from their graves," she stated proudly.

Larry smiled. Even at a young age, Bianca still had spunk. "You don't have anyone else you can go live with? A grandmother? Another aunt or uncle?"

"Nope, Grandfather never married after Nana passed away twelve years ago. Said he didn't have the time. My parents died when I was really young. I think I was four. State says I have to live with my aunt Liv now, but I don't want to."

Larry flicked another ant off his sleeve and kneeled down to her level. "Well maybe it will just take some adjusting. I'm sure after time, your aunt will realize what a wonderful young lady you are and that you are smarter than anyone could've imagined."

"How'd you know I was smart?" B asked, smiling broadly.

"I could just tell."

"Well, my grandfather was an inventor and he said that I had what it took to be one, too! He taught me everything I know," she beamed.

Larry stood up again and opened his mouth to say something, but B gasped. "Uh oh! I'm gonna be _toast_! I gotta get to my aunt's house before she comes back and _kills_ me!"

"Well, if it's not too far, I could walk you to your aunt's house," Larry offered. "You shouldn't be walking around on your own, you know."

"Okay. Thanks, Mr. Larry," she replied with a smile, though tears still shone in her blue eyes.

Suddenly, she slapped his hand again, this time even harder than before. For an eleven year old, she sure could inflict _pain_! "Another red ant?" he guessed.

"Nope. Spider," B replied.

Larry's face wrinkled in a disgusted look and B laughed before taking his hand. While this wasn't quite what Larry had in mind, he was hoping to find some answers about Bianca's past–and soon.

* * *

"Where's Appleton?"

Balki turned around in the basement of the Chicago Chronicle to find Larry's boss standing beside his desk expectantly. "Cousin Larry won't be able to come into work today. I was told to give you this," he said, fishing out a note from the inside pocket of his vest.

Mr. Wainwright adjusted his glasses and unfolded the note. "Dear Mr. Wainwright. Please excuse Mr. Larry Appleton from all work-related duties due to a back injury. Signed, Doctor Brianna Westbourne. Well, very well then."

"Appleton hurt his back _again_?"

Balki jumped at the sound of his boss' voice and let out a small cry. Ever since he had seen the ghostly woman in the time machine, he had been extremely jumpy.

"What's the matter, Bartokomous? Guilty conscience?" Mr. Gorpley taunted.

"No, Mr. Gorpley. I am fully alert and ready to work," Balki assured him, thinking he had said conscious.

"Well, see that you do. Don't forget to finish the dictionary for me. I need that on my desk by tomorrow or it's your neck."

"Okay, Mr. Gorpley, but I don't know how my neck is gonna help you spell and look up meanings of words."

Seconds later, Balki heard a loud bang behind him and he literally yelled and jumped on top of the table where the mail was stacked.

Mr. Gorpley laughed maniacally, picking up a book that had fallen on the floor. "Oops."

"Sam, leave him alone unless you want me to publish that letter you 'anonymously' sent to my advice column signed 'Size Doesn't Matter in Chicago'," Lydia Markham, the paper's advice columnist threatened.

"As you were, Bartokomous," Mr. Gorpley replied nervously before quickly retreating to his office.

"Balki, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a _ghost_ ," Lydia asked, helping Balki from the table.

"You mean you saw her, too?" Balki asked, clutching her arms in fear.

"Saw _who_ , Balki?" Lydia queried slowly, pulling away.

Balki sighed. He couldn't tell her the truth. Not without telling her about Bianca and her time machine. But he couldn't lie to her, either.

"Lydia, there's something I have to–"

" _There_ you are!" Harriet's Winslow's stern tone echoed throughout the basement. "Lydia, you owe me thirty dollars and I want that money!"

Lydia walked away from Balki and towards the elevator. "Harriet, I _told_ you I'd give you the money–"

"Yeah, I know what you _told_ me, but I…"

Balki listened as their voices trailed off behind the closed doors of the elevator. Normally, he loved to work and converse with his co-workers, but it wasn't the same without knowing where Cousin Larry was. He hadn't come home at all last night and it worried him. Not to mention every time he closed his eyes, he saw the woman screaming and holding her stomach. At least Bianca said she would meet him for lunch. _Maybe then I can relax and unload all my burros_ , he thought as he started to sort the mail.

* * *

"I don't know if I can do this," she sighed, sitting on the floor in the corner of her cell. "I can't believe I'm helping to harm someone we _care_ about."

"I know. It's difficult for me, too, but we have to continue. He has to think he's gaining the upper hand," the older man informed her as he paced the room. "Just keep doing as he tells you to and try not to worry. I'm working on my end to keep all hell from breaking loose. I swear, though, if he harms a hair on–"

"I hear him coming!" the woman suddenly shushed him before whispering, "If there's anyone I trust to get us out of this mess, it's you."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

"Cousin? Are you–?" Balki asked as soon as he opened the door to the apartment.

Bianca sighed from her position on the sofa and shook her head. "Sorry, Balki. He's not here."

"Where is he? It been over twenty-four hours since he left and I'm about to have a nervous _breakdance_!" Balki cried. "Bianca, can we _please_ take your time machine and look for Cousin Larry?"

Bianca stood up and grabbed his hand. "I was just waiting for you to come home. Come on."

A few seconds later, they were in the living room of her home and Bianca saw no signs that Larry was there, either. "Larry? Are you here?" she called out.

"Cousin, where are you? Come out, come out, wherever you are! Mohammad Ali Oxen Free!" Balki called out.

Bianca came back a few minutes later. R.O.B. was charging and still twenty-five minutes away from powering up, so she couldn't ask him quite yet.

"Bianca, can we go to the police so they can put out a PDA for him?" Balki asked.

"Balki, I don't think that's such a–"

"Please, Bianca; I don't like just sitting on my legs and not doing anything."

"I know that, Balki, but let's just wait–"

Balki suddenly lowered his head to his chest. "I want to go to the _police_!" he wailed.

"Alright, _alright_ , we'll go to the police," she gave in.

Balki instantly looked back up and smiled. "Okay."

Bianca led him once again to the time machine and within seconds, arrived at the police station.

As soon as they walked in, a burly, balding cop sat at a desk a few feet away. "Can I help you two?"

"We need to file a missing person's report," Bianca stated.

"I need a name and description," the cop said, turning to his computer.

"His name is Cousin Larry Appleton," Balki told them. "He twenty-six years but he don't look a day over twenty five."

"Can you describe him for me?" the cop asked, eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, okay. He's short, he has brown well-coughed hair, no upper lip at all, erotic personality. He like the color blue, takes his coffee black with no sugar and enjoys organizing and making mountains out of moles," Balki explained.

Bianca cleared her throat nervously. "Let me try. He's a white male about five-foot-seven, average weight, brown curly hair, hazel eyes, nervous disposition. He was last seen wearing a light blue button-down shirt and a dark brown tie with khaki pants and brown loafers."

"Thank you, ma'am," the cop nodded before glaring at Balki. "Let me look in the computer here and–"

"Oh, no. He won't be in the computer. How would he fit in that tiny screen?" Balki asked.

Bianca shot him a warning look but had to fight laughing out loud.

"Okay, we'll do all we can," the policeman stated.

As soon as Balki was out of earshot, Bianca pretended to get a phone call.

"Oh, _there_ you are! We just went to the station to file a missing person's report! Okay, I'll tell them. Bye."

The cop looked up at her expectantly. "You need me to cancel the report?"

Bianca flashed him a hundred-watt smile. "If you wouldn't mind."

After all, she knew that if the police put out a missing person's report, they'd find Larry in a heartbeat. Only Larry would be much older and _very_ confused as to why a much younger Balki filed a police report when the older Balki would have probably had seen him _minutes_ earlier. Just thinking of the mass confusion made her hair stand on end.

* * *

Larry knew it was getting late, but he needed to see B again. He had lingered outside long enough to hear yelling–mostly from her aunt–and knew that the situation wasn't good. He looked up at the window where had seen her earlier and assumed it was her bedroom. The house seemed nice enough on the outside, and he was sure it was equally lovely on the inside, but it was what went on behind closed doors that made Larry shiver. He looked up again and saw that the lamp in her room had been switched off.

"I can't believe I'm doing this for a _child_ ," he whispered, picking up a few stray pebbles in his hand before tossing them at her window. But this wasn't just any child; this was a young version of Bianca Pierson, the woman who came into his life and turned it upside-down, both in reality and subconsciousness.

A minute later, her lamp came back on and a red and white pajama clad B opened the window and peered out. "Mr. Larry? What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I came to see if you were okay," he answered.

"Hang on. I'm coming down," she told him, crawling out of her window and stepping onto the lattice attached to the house.

Larry grimaced. "Be careful," he warned, preparing himself to catch her if she fell.

He breathed a sigh of relief when she expertly climbed down and landed gracefully on the grass below.

"I hate it here," B said, her lower lip quivering. "Aunt Liv is so mean to me. She yells at me for _everything_! She gave me this computer and told me to fix it so I could prove I was good for something. I could re-wire the whole thing and make it work so good, she'd be amazed, but then she'd just get angrier and hit me or something."

Larry's eyes bulged out. "She _hits_ you?"

"No, but she _hurts_ me. She grabbed my arms so hard and shook me when I told her I wasn't hungry. She said she didn't care if I starved. Mr. Larry, what am I supposed to do? I miss my grandfather so much it hurts. If he were here now, _he'd_ know what to do."

"Your grandfather; did he ever tell you that you and he had a special bond and could talk to each other no matter where you were?" Larry asked.

B shrugged and bit her lip. "Mr. Larry, I really should go back–"

"I know, but this is very important. Is it true what your grandfather said?"

"Yes, but you can't tell anyone, okay? He says all I have to do is think about how much we love each other and I can hear him as if we're in the same room."

"I knew it!" Larry cried triumphantly. So his dream _was_ correct! "Then you need to ask your grandfather how to get out of this mess."

B shrugged and took his hand. "I–I did. He said you'd help me."

Larry's smile suddenly melted like a cake that had been left out in the rain. "He said _I'd_ help you? But _how_?"

"I don't know," B shrugged again. "Look, I gotta go back inside before Aunt Liv finds out I'm not there and has a hissy fit! Goodnight, Mr. Larry!"

Larry watched in silence as she climbed back up to her window and returned to her room. _So I'm supposed to help her, huh? No pressure, Grandfather_ , he thought sarcastically before trying to come up with a plan of escape.

 _She doesn't need to escape, Larry. What she needs is someone to watch over her. You want answers? You need to figure out a way to get closer to her_ , a strange voice "answered" him.

"Who's that? Who's there?" Larry asked, whipping his head around, only to find no one there.

 _Larry, you will probably never hear these words told to you again, so listen carefully: you need to come up with a plan_.

Feeling confused, panicked and terrified, Larry ran down the street, afraid whomever was speaking to him might decide to suddenly show themselves.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

"R.O.B., I am your _creator_! Now I _command_ you tell me where Larry is!"

Balki could hear Bianca yelling from her bedroom as he sat on her sofa, trying to understand Wakamaru, who jabbered away in Japanese. As soon as they returned from the police station, Bianca had asked R.O.B. where Larry was. Apparently, R.O.B. knew but was not planning on telling her or Balki. He hated to think his cousin was angry with him too, but if Larry left without even saying goodbye or writing a note, Larry must've been upset with them _both_.

"What did I do or say to make Cousin Larry so _upset_ , Wakamaru?" he asked sadly.

Even though the yellow and silver robot could only speak in its native tongue, it made Balki feel somewhat better.

"Well!" Bianca huffed, slamming the door to her bedroom door and storming to the sofa. "How do you like _that_? My own robot has turned against me! He knows where he is, but he says the information on Larry's whereabouts are _classified_!"

"Maybe we take his advice and look there! If Cousin Larry took out an ad, maybe it will tell us where he _is_!" Balki said hopefully.

Bianca placed her head in her hands. "No, Balki. He's not talking about the classified ads in the paper. He's basically saying that Larry told him not to tell us and R.O.B. is _complying_ with him. Traitor!" she yelled over her shoulder.

Wakamaru once again began talking in Japanese and Balki noticed Bianca shaking all over as she ordered the robot to speak English. He wasn't sure if she was cold, so he gently placed an arm around her, just in case.

"You have three new messages," Wakamaru said in its small voice.

"Play messages," she said.

"First mesaage…"

"Hey, Miss Pierson. This is Jacob again from Langley Confections. Forgot to thank you before for giving me the program for the hologram to greet people at the door! Everyone loves it. I just have a quick question about the site. I know you can do anything on your computer with your mad and wicked skills, but just give me a call back, okay? Thanks."

"Second message…"

"Good evening, Bianca Pierson. This is Serge and I just wanted you to be aware that your first payment is being mailed to you on the first of the month. I just _love_ what you have done with the site; it's a beautiful piece of work, you _vixen_ you! Well, call me if you need anything; maybe we'll do lunch next time you're in Beverly Hills again! Goodbye."

"I couldn't understand _half_ of that," Bianca muttered with a lopsided grin.

"Third message…"

Balki listened as the message was nothing but static, as if someone had a terrible connection before faint music began to play in the background. Balki began bopping his head back and forth to the tempo; Bianca, however, shot up from the sofa and let out a sound as if she were choking.

"Bianca? Are you alright?" Balki asked, standing beside her.

"That _song_ ," she whispered. "I caught myself singing it when I was doing the laundry. We used to sing the song before…"

Balki looked at her, worried and confused as she began to shake even more than before. Placing his arm around her again, he looked into her eyes, concern clouding his own. "Who used to sing the song? You and Cousin Larry?"

"No!" she wailed. "My grandfather and I used to sing that song before he died and _everything changed_!"

"Oh, po po," Balki soothed, holding her close as she wept onto the shoulder of his tan shirt. "I am so sorry, Bianca. I had no idea."

A few minutes later, Bianca pulled back and wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry for breaking down like that."

"No, don't be sorry. You shouldn't bottle rocket your emotions. Like Madonna says, you have to express yourself."

"Let me just lock up here and we can go back to the apartment. There are some things I need to tell you about Larry's dream and why I was so angry at him before," Bianca sniffed.

"Okay. We'll go back and you can tell Balki all about what is troubling you."

Bianca nodded and Balki watched her go into the kitchen. As soon as she was gone, he heard a noise behind him. "You know, R.O.B., you shouldn't keep secrets–"

He turned and stopped abruptly, however, when he saw it wasn't R.O.B., but the ghostly woman yet again. This time, she looked straight at him. "Help me!" she screamed.

"H-How?" he stuttered, seconds before the gunshot rang out and she began screaming. This time, he could see the blood gushing between her fingers as she grabbed her stomach.

"Bianca!" he cried out, turning away and feeling ill.

"Balki!" Bianca cried out a millisecond later, running from the kitchen. "Larry took the time machine! I had another one and it's _gone_! R.O.B. knows he took it and God knows where he went!"

"Oh God!" Balki cried out before racing for the bathroom. The woman was gone, but in between seeing the blood and knowing Larry was traveling through space and time unknown, his stomach couldn't take any more.

* * *

"So _now_ do you understand why Larry's dream affected me so much? I just don't want to talk about it because it brings up too many bad memories," Bianca concluded after telling Balki about her grandfather and their once-weird connection.

"I–I think so. This story is so constipated, though; it's hard for me to keep up. I can't believe Cousin Larry was so scared something bad would happen to you that he call your grandfather. He don't know your grandfather from a hole in the ground. And why would he not tell _me_?"

"Probably because he didn't want you to be worried, as well. What with Mary Anne leaving for Ontario and everything, he didn't want you to worry about _my_ well-being, too."

Balki sighed. "Yes, but he did all the worrying for both of us. You are my friend, too and I want to know if you are okay and worry if you are not. Cousin Larry should not have kept that part of his dream a secret."

Bianca smiled and went into the kitchen to pour him a glass of ginger ale. "How is your stomach?"

"Oh, Bianca. I saw the most _horrible_ thing while you were locking up. The ghost lady came back. This time, I saw blood coming from her stomach. It was awful! Every time I close my eyes, I see her now. She is Etch-A-Sketched into my _mind_!" Balki cried out.

Bianca gave him the ginger ale and sat down. "And you have no idea who she is. You've never seen her before in your life."

"Never. I have never seen her before in my entire life. She must know you, though. Why else would she call your name?"

Bianca averted his eyes so he wouldn't see the doubt in her own. "Well, then why does she disappear every time I come into the room?"

"I have no idea. Maybe you're not coming _quick_ enough."

Bianca half-heartedly listened to Balki continue to talk about his supposed lady ghost as her mind wandered to where Larry could have gone to in her time machine. While she was furious at R.O.B., she knew that if Larry was in any kind of imminent danger, R.O.B. would intervene and bring him back.

Suddenly, she had an idea! Excusing herself, she crept into her bedroom and quickly logged in to her time machine's computer. Larry and Balki didn't know it, but after she and Balki stayed up late that first night, she had crept into Larry's room and placed a tracking device in one of his loafers. It was so small that it was able to slide right under the saddle of his shoe! She also placed one in Balki's shoe, albeit it was slightly harder to find a place for it to go. "Come on, computer, show me where Larry went traipsing off to," she whispered, waiting for it to process.

Suddenly, the tracking device told her exactly where the chip was found and she gasped. "That's _impossible_!"

Leaning down, she kicked off her sneaker and pulled at the tongue. Sure enough, there was the tracking device meant for Larry! "Well, of course he knew about the damn tracking device! He mentioned it in the _dream_!"

As soon as the words escaped her throat, she shivered. It wasn't until just now that she realized just how many things Larry had confessed in his dream were becoming reality. The two time machines, the strangely-accented art dealer Serge, her connection with her grandfather and now the tracking device! Could it be that there was going to be a _Max Fagen_ in her life soon, too?


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

"Well, I'm _trying_ to leave, Marlene, but I have the brat here by herself and I can't have her roaming about the place!"

Larry stopped abruptly when he saw B's Aunt Liv outside the front steps of her house on a cellular phone. He was hoping B would be playing outside so he could talk to her, but he didn't expect to find her aunt, instead. She was a woman barely in her forties, with jet black hair and a muscular build. She was wearing a t-shirt with a vicious looking dog on the front and a pair of black sweat pants. _No wonder B's afraid of her; she looks like she just ate another human for breakfast_ , he thought to himself, taking in her large frame. Thankfully, she hadn't seen him as he stood across the street, trying to act normal, as if he were just passing through.

Suddenly, he had a wonderful idea! As soon as Aunt Liv finished her call and went back inside, he jogged across the street and rang the doorbell, his heart in his throat.

"What do _you_ want?" Aunt Liv growled as she opened the door slightly.

"I'm here about the job."

" _What_ job?"

Larry placed his hands in his pockets so she wouldn't see the sweat dripping off them. "The job for a nanny. You _do_ need a nanny, right?"

"I ain't taken an ad in the paper yet," Aunt Liv told him, grabbing an old coffee can and spitting a wad of tobacco in it.

"Well, looks like I just saved you the trouble. The name's Larry Appleton and you won't find a better nanny for the job," he told her confidently, fighting the wave of nausea at the sight of the coffee can full of chewed snuff.

"Where's your references?" she barked.

"References?" he scoffed. "Who uses references nowadays?" When he saw she was still looking at him expectantly, he cleared his throat. "I left the list in my other pants pocket. I'll have them for you tomorrow."

"I need you to start now," she told him, grabbing his arm roughly and pulling him inside. "The little brat is upstairs. Make sure she doesn't get into anything of mine. Got it?"

Larry nodded, grabbing his shoulder, which he was sure had been pulled out of its socket. "Is there a number I should call in case of an emergency?"

Aunt Liv was halfway out the door when she turned around and scowled. "Don't let there _be_ an emergency."

Larry nodded again. "Got it."

As soon as the door slammed behind B's gruesome aunt, he raced upstairs. Turning to the left, he could see her Aunt Liv's bedroom, which was decorated with posters of bodybuilders and exercise equipment. "Good grief," he muttered as he continued down the hall to a small room at the end. It had a bed and a small table in the middle of the room with an old computer on it, but not much else. "B?" he called out. "Are you in here?"

Suddenly, he heard a loud banging coming from a closet to the right with double doors painted grey and white. Opening the closet, he gasped at what he saw in there.

"Mr. Larry!" B asked, throwing herself into his arms happily.

"Oh my _Lord_ , what are you doing in the _closet_?" he asked, returning the hug.

"Aunt Liv locked me in here. She's done that a couple of times when she doesn't want to be bothered. How did you get in here?"

Larry adjusted his tie proudly. "Meet your new nanny."

B's eyes grew wide. " _You're_ my new nanny?"

"Yes, I am. I marched right up to your aunt and said 'I heard you needed a nanny and you need look no further; Larry Appleton is here and I'm not taking no for an answer'."

B giggled. "I don't think that's how it went down, but I'll let you keep that fantasy. Either way, I'm glad you're here. Come look at this," she grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the table with her computer. "I made it work!"

"That's great, B; I _knew_ you could do it! So, what is it supposed to do?"

"Lots of stuff, but see this website?" she asked, typing in the URL. "It's a list of my grandfather's inventions. I helped him with some of them," she added proudly. "This is one he just finished before he died. It's a recording device that can call _any_ phone in the world and can use my grandfather's voice to send messages! It's so amazingly fantastic! If I had a phone number from the past or future, I could call, leave a message and it would ring through!"

"That _is_ amazing! Can you call a phone from, say, nineteen eighty seven?" Larry asked.

"Sure can! If I have the number. But we have to go to my grandfather's house first, His invention is there!"

Larry grinned at her from ear to ear. "Then what are we waiting for? Let's go to your grandfather's house and try it!"

* * *

Balki tried to concentrate on the _Beverly Hillbillies_ re-run that was on television, but he couldn't get his mind off of the ghost lady. When she first started appearing to Balki, it was just a little scary and weird. Now, however, the images were becoming more horrifying and graphic for him to see. Bianca had tried everything to make him feel better: herbal tea, playing a board game with him, singing his favorite pop songs, and even letting him use her shoulder as a pillow to rest. Sadly, however, nothing was working.

Finally, Balki told her he just needed to be alone for a while. Bianca had decided to take the time machine back to her house and get some work done on her computer. Thankfully, since she had left, Balki hadn't seen or heard from the ghost lady. Unfortunately, the images were still fresh in his mind as if she were right in front of him. He didn't have to see her now; she was haunting him every second.

Suddenly, the phone rang and Balki leapt about a foot in the air from his position on the sofa. As soon as he realized it was only the telephone, he scolded himself in Myposian before answering it on the fourth ring. "Hello?"

"Balki…Larry…I'm safe…with Bianca as a child…grandfather's house…be back soon…don't tell Bianca," an unfamiliar voice said through blasts of white noise.

"Hello? Hello?" Balki asked, unsure if someone had a bad connection. "I can barely hear you! Can you speak out?"

Balki jumped again as the operator came on the line telling him if he would like to make a call, to please hang up and dial '0' for operator. He placed the phone back on the cradle and sighed. He had hoped it would be Larry, calling to tell him he was alright, where he was and that he would be coming back soon. "This is _not_ a good time for frank phone calls," he said aloud, placing his head in his hands as he leaned against the bar.

* * *

"I don't like this; I don't like it at all!" she cried, knowing it wouldn't do any good. "We're making him a complete nervous _wreck_!"

The young man grinned wickedly, showing his blinding white teeth. "Good. The plan is working. I'm almost ready to go in for the kill. I just can't believe she hasn't figured it out yet. I want her to know exactly who you are first."

The older man looked at them both through the small barred window of his cell. "Gosh; I'd _hate_ to think that maybe not all of your plan is working. And it's a damn shame that you can't find the other one."

The younger man kicked the door of the cell so hard, it caused the older man to stumble backwards. "If I find out you're pulling _any_ of your high-tech shenanigans, so help me I will kill them all and make sure _you_ watch!"

"He's not doing _anything_ and you know it!" the woman yelled. "Leave him alone!"

The young man opened the door and threw her back inside the cell. "Make sure he doesn't. I'll come back for you when I need you. And trust me when I say, I will need you soon."


	10. Chapter 10

**SIDE NOTE:** Tissue alert! Very emotional scene revealed.

 **Chapter Ten**

"There; _that_ should do it," Bianca nodded with self-satisfaction as she programmed the final additions to the website for Serge's art gallery. She had only begun the website two weeks ago and it had already gotten well over a million views. She was happy for the strangely-accented art guru, who had fallen on hard times after the former owner of the gallery was imprisoned and the new owner promptly fired him. From there he worked at a hat shop, was a receptionist at a salon, helped promote the latest in weaponry, and even worked at a convenience store. It was at the convenience store that the owner of the art gallery confessed he was in trouble. He literally _begged_ Serge to take over while he went into the Witness Protection Program due to a slight issue with a local gang and a couple of bookies. With five years of experience under his belt, no one was able to put the art gallery back on its feet more than Serge. Now the gallery was the pride of Beverly Hills and thanks to Bianca's new website, it was becoming well-known around the _world_!

She reached over to call the strange man, but stopped herself. As much as she liked Serge, she really wasn't in the mood to listen to him go on about the website, his so-called art, or his prize-winning poodle Von Schnitzel. She was too concerned about Balki, his strange hallucinations and mostly, Larry, who still hadn't come back or even called to let them know where he was. She knew if he were in danger, R.O.B. would be alerted and send him back pronto, but it still worried her that Larry didn't have a clue what he was doing or getting into.

Suddenly, she realized the one person who might make her feel better was only a click away and she quickly pulled up her video chat icon. "Alright, Valeena; take my mind off of everything by just simply being _you_ ," she whispered as clicked the connect button.

Seconds later, she sighed when it seemed Valeena wasn't able to video chat as a message read that she was unavailable. Cursing, she stood up, grabbed her purse and decided to take a walk. At least the clear, crisp air would make her feel less suffocated by all the negativity. She had only walked to the street, however, when she saw a young girl around eleven and an elderly man walking beside her. The girl held a stuffed dog and the man held a helium-filled pink balloon and both were smiling happily.

"Grandpa, I love being with you. I wish this day could last _forever_ ," the girl said.

"This day can last forever, my dear; this day will always be in your heart. Whenever you feel sad, just think about this day. I know it will always cheer _me_ up!" the old man replied, placing his arm around her.

Bianca felt a knot rising in her throat and she quickly turned and dashed back in the house, her usual brave front crashing down as she fell to her knees, sobbing. "Why, Grandfather, _why_? How could you have _betrayed_ me like that? Why won't you just let me _forget_ you?" she wailed as she curled up in a ball on her living room floor just like that eleven-year-old child whose world came tumbling down all those years ago.

* * *

"You're late," B's Aunt Liv pointed out as she blew her cigarette smoke in Larry's face. "You're _lucky_ I'm in such a good mood."

"I'm so sorry. It won't happen again," Larry blurted nervously, trying not to choke from the nicotine that entered his lungs.

"The kiddo's upstairs. She ain't happy, which is amusing and annoying to watch. I'm going to the gym to celebrate."

"Is it your birthday? Anniversary? Able to bench press a _truck_?" Larry asked, hoping she wouldn't hear that last part.

"Nope. Better. Later, Leroy," Liv replied before hopping in her monster-sized pick-up.

"It's Larry," he replied to her exhaust fumes, this time unable to keep from coughing.

"B? You upstairs?" he called out once he got inside the house.

 _CRASH!_

As soon as Larry heard the breaking noise, he ran upstairs in a panic. _I hope she's not hurt from that falling glass_ , he thought before reaching her room.

"B! Oh my _Lord_! Are you _hurt_?" he gasped as he saw her curled up in a ball on the floor, sobbing.

When she didn't respond, he picked her up and looked over her arms and legs but found no cuts or abrasions. Her face was red from crying, however and it almost seemed as if she didn't even realize he was holding her. "B, tell me what's wrong. _Please_ , talk to me!"

"How could he _do_ this to me? I thought he _loved_ me!" she wailed as Larry put her down. As soon as he did, she grabbed a nearby picture off the wall and threw it as hard as she could, smashing the frame into pieces on the floor before she fell back to her knees.

Larry wasn't sure whether to be afraid of her or try to console her. He had never seen her so upset and angry before. "You thought _who_ loved you?" he asked slowly, removing another picture from the wall and holding it safely behind his back.

"Grandfather! Aunt Liv said he _wanted_ me to live here if something happened to him! He _knew_ how much she hated me and he still wanted me to live with her!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face like a mini waterfall. "He signed papers saying that when he died, she c-could be my _guardian_! Why, Mr. Larry, why?"

"B, I'm sure your aunt just told you that to _upset_ you. I'm positive that if your grandfather knew how she treated you, he wouldn't let you live here," he assured her gently.

"No, it's _true_! She showed me the papers and I even verified it _online_! It's his signature! How could he do this to me, Mr. Larry? I thought he-he _loved_ me!" she argued, sobbing freely again.

Larry's heart broke as he watched her lie there on the floor in a heap, her body racked with deep painful sobs. Looking on the table where the computer was, he saw a manila folder beside the monitor. Walking over, he picked it up and opened it to reveal an official document from the state, signed by Henry A. Pierson, waiving his rights of guardianship to none other than his daughter-in-law Olivia S. Pierson. Larry couldn't believe it, but it was as real as it could be.

Suddenly, it all fell into place–the reason why Bianca bristled every time he mentioned her grandfather or the dream–she still harbored ill feelings toward her deceased grandfather for what he did to her! "Oh my _Lord_ ," he said, feeling both empathetic to Bianca's heartbreak and terrible for pushing the issue with her before he left.

"B, I am _so_ sorry," he turned around to find her still on the floor, her sobs quieted to the occasional hiccup. "I don't understand why he did this, but you know what? I'm going to find out. I'm an investigative reporter and my job is to dig for answers. I _promise_ you, B; I'm going to do everything I can to get to the bottom of this. There _has_ to be more to the story."

"The only thing that matters is my grandfather _lied_ to me when he said he loved me and we were connected. Now I just want to forget him. _Please_ , Mr. Larry; just help me _forget_ him," she whispered as she latched onto him tightly, crying again.

Larry swallowed the lump in his throat. As long as he lived, he would never forget her heartbreaking plea, but he also knew he would not rest until he had answers.

After a few minutes, he convinced her to brush her teeth and get ready for bed. Minutes after he tucked her in, she was sound asleep and he knew that if he was going to uncover the truth, he needed to search _now_ and pray that Liv was pulling an all-nighter at the gym.


End file.
